Mystery of Life
by Steph the Great
Summary: At the sound of a gun, life changes forever.
1. Nightmare in Action

Chapter 1 – Nightmare in Action

"HELP! HOUSE HAS BEEN SHOT! HOUSE HAS BEEN SHOT" screamed Foreman to the entire second floor of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Nurses and other alike ran in to assist the injured Greg House. The hospital's paramedics were soon in the meeting room putting him on a gurney.

Downstairs in radiology, James Wilson was observing a treatment on a 6 year old patient. Over the loudspeaker, a frantic voice announced, "Code yellow, doctor shot, code yellow. Remain in your offices and rooms." Wilson immediately froze. Who's been shot?! His stomach became sick. He peered out of the treatment room right after a gun shot sounded and a balding man fell to the ground. Wilson scurried out and ran to the emergency wing across the way. Before he could even imagine what had just happened, he saw House's team against the wall with their head in their hands. With that vision, he stopped dead in his tracks. "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" he said as he ran to the window. There it was. A best friend's worst nightmare. House was getting prepped for immediate surgey to remove the two bullets. He was unconscious and loosing blood.

"Some guy who House supposedly treated came in and shot him. Once in the abdomen, once in the neck." Foreman started as he came behind Wilson. Cameron and Chase just seemed to be in disbelief and mildly hyperventilating.

Wilson tried to remind himself to keep breathing. "Call me as soon as he's out."

Wilson ran up to his office. He shuffled through his address book until he found what he was looking for. He then picked up his phone and dialed the number.

"Mrs. House. It's Jimmy Wilson. Are you sitting down?" He tried not to be so rushed. "Ho..Greg's been shot. He's in surgey right now. I had to call you."

He felt he had to be strong for his friend. As he viciously tried to fight off breaking down on the phone with House's mother, he said, "Okay, see you soon."

He put the phone and just sat there. His head was now in his hands and tears were pouring down his face.

After composing himself which took longer than he thought, he dialed another number.

"Stacy, it's Jim. Are you sitting down?"

Two hours had passed. Wilson had canceled all appointments and sat in his office. He rocked back and forth in his chair with hands held almost praying. He heard loud thumps coming down the hall. Foreman made an abupt stop at Wilson's door, out of breath. "He's out of surgery. It was extremely successful. He's being moved to the ICU."

Wilson almost fell out of his chair while trying to spring to his feet. He ran with Foreman to ICU to see Greg.

The first face he saw when they turned the corner was Cuddy. She had obviously been crying due to the faded makeup around her eyes. Wilson, who was fresh out of tears, couldn't think of anything to say. He just put his arms around her and held her. Chase and Cameron were in the lobby talking to police about the incident and the suspect, who had to be taken to another hospital.

"Can I see him?" Wilson choked out. Seconds later Cameron and Chase walked back over the to the group of worry stricken doctors. Cuddy nodded. As he went for the door and opened it slowly, Cameron made the move to go in with him. "Don't." he said as he looked at her square in the eye. She immediately backed off and walked back over to her teammates, looking like she just got yelled at by her 3rd grade teacher.

Wilson took one deep breath and walked in.

House was a tall man, but he looked so small and so frail in that hospital bed. His neck was bandaged, tube still down his throat, and constant monitors around them. He walked over slowly and took his friends hand for a moment, gave it a quick squeeze and let it go.

"You're going to get through this," he said so quietly that House couldn't had heard even if he was awake.


	2. Heaven to Touch

Chapter Two – Heaven to Touch

Fingers twitched. Eyes opened.

House's eyes slowly opened. Trying to remember what had happened before he lost consciousness, his vision focused on the two people sitting at the right side of his bed. His mother and Wilson. Her eyes opened on account of her motherly instincts and her face turned into a smile. Wilson heard her shuffle and woke up as well.

"Greg, honey," started his mother who was fighting tears. "If you wanted a visit, you could have called, you know." Having his breathing tube removed from his throat only a short while before, he simply smiled at her. He knew even thought she was a very mild mannered person, he got his sarcasm from her.

"How long have I been out?" he scratched out. "Two days." said Wilson.

"How'd everything go? Seeing that all my limbs are still attached I take it surgery went well." House asked as he motioned Wilson for some water.

"Like a dream." said Mrs. House. He was always happy to see his mother. But then it came to him – where's his father? "Where's Dad?" House asked. He was half expecting this to be a story about how his father couldn't make it or just didn't care. "He's at our hotel. When we got here, he was a nervous wreck. We were told what happened and he broke down. I told him to go back and rest and that I'd call him when you woke up."

House was surprised. Then his mother took a quick breath, "Which means I should call him now. I'll be back." She got up and walked out of the room.

House looked back at Wilson and had an amused face on him. "You were crying too, weren't you?" He said nothing. House knew. They really didn't have to discuss it.

Suddenly Wilson's cell phone rang. "Yeah, he's awake. Everything's alright. Here." He handed the phone over to House.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Greg." She said softly. He grinned slightly. Her voice was always soothing. "How are you feeling?"

"Morphine-park happy, Morphine-park glad."

"I do have a question for you. Say I came to see you…would you throw me out?"

"Not at all. When can-" he started and the door slide opened. There stood Stacy in the doorway with her cell phone pressed to her ear.

"Two steps a head of you." She said nervously awaiting his response.

He just starred at her. He had that small grin on his face whenever she was around and right now was no different. She looked right back at him. Not breaking eye contact she moved slowly to the bed. Wilson got up.

"I'll be out in the hall." He said not trying to ruin the moment.

She looked differently for some reason. Her hair was the same, crucifix in place, dark blue jeans, and a dark green short sleeve button down.

She sat in the extra chair on the left side of the bed. "You know I came running as soon as Jim called me."

Stacy looked more radiant than ever. Maybe it was the morphine. House wasn't complaining, but he knew something was different. Anomalies bugged him.

He tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound flat out dumb.

"How've you been?" he asked genuinely.

"I've been good." She replied. She took a short glance at the machines that were around him and she felt tears. Stacy had been good so far, she tried to stay strong. "I have a new job now at Olsen and Reyler and I've been there about 5 months.."

"Stace," he interrupted her. She looked at him.

"Your ring. Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?" he said swiftly to avoid the awkward break in his voice.

She made a small grin and looked down. House still hadn't taken his eyes off her since she came in.

"Because.." She started. Now it was her voice that was cracking. She gathered herself and looked up at him. It was a simple reason but it was so hard to say. "Because I'm not married."

House felt his heart drop. "Since when?" he asked softly.

Stacy was so nervous her hands started to shake in her lap. "He handed me the divorce papers two weeks after I left here."

He gently took her hand in his. Her tears finally fell.

"Greg, I'm not asking for anything. Just don't kick me out of your life." She said letting the tears fall.

"Well, I do have something that belongs to you." He said as he took her hand and placed it over his heart. "It was never anyone else's."

She sat up from the chair and sat beside him on the bed. Thankfully, she sat on his good side. House just let her head drop onto his shoulder as she began to cry. He just held her there for a while. He felt his eyes moisten but kept blinking to relieve it. He couldn't do this in front of her now.

They both knew this embrace was more powerful than a kiss.

"Friends?" he sighed. She lifted her head up and smile, "Friends."

He looked over at the window seeing Wilson smiling. House gave him thumbs up and Wilson did the same.

Stacy lifted her head and stood up. "I've got to be in night court tonight but I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

"You're only allowed back if you bring me real food." He said rather seriously.

"I thought it would have to be along those lines." She chuckled.

He still had her hand in his. He gently kissed it and let it go.

She smiled before leaving the room.

_I need to get shot more often_, he thought.


	3. Loss

Chapter 3 – Loss

Cameron sat in the diagnostic workroom starring at the wall. Her pathetic face made anyone on the planet know that she was thinking of House. As she pretended to review a file or complete paperwork, she thought of what had just happened.

'_Okay, I can do this." Cameron said to herself. As she gave one last look in the bathroom mirror, tapped a bit of lip balm on, she pulled herself together for what could have been the release of over two of tension and want. _

_She walked slowly down the hallway trying to capture what was going to be said inside of her. She wanted to tell Greg House everything. She wanted to lean over the bed rails and kiss him on the lips ever so softly. She wanted him to kiss her back. She kept playing her fantasy scenario in her head as she walked into the ICU._

_After giving a final reassurance to herself she turned the corner to see Wilson's back looking through House's window. A little puzzled, she squinted to see what he was looking at. _

_Stacy. Stacy in House's arms. More painfully, his arm around her and the other holding her hand to his heart and a shiny glisten in his eyes. _

_Cameron's heart dropped right down to her feet. Before Wilson could turn around, she left. Avoiding tears, she walked down the halls. 'Keep breathing, Allison' she had to remind herself. She found herself down in the basement hallway. She could not hold it anymore. She sobbed. _


	4. One for the Gipper

Chapter 4 – One for the Gipper

It was oddly quiet in House's office as Chase and Foreman went through some files that were put aside after the shooting. Neither one of them really talked about it to each other.

In the beginning, Foreman and Chase became alright friends. Though Cameron shook things up a bit now and again, they knew that they would always help each other out if needed.

"You alright?" Chase asked without looking up from the folder.

"Not really." Foreman replied. "I keep seeing it in my head. I hear the sound of that gun. I see House hitting the ground. Sometime I even see myself as the one that was shot."

"Nothing like a reality check, mate," the other doctor said coolly. "It makes you think that this could happen to any doctor. Even to one of us. We've certainly pissed people off in the past."

"Yeah, man. I'm just thinking of what could have happened. If things were worse than they were. What if that guy shot House dead? I honestly don't know what I would have done. I mean, he's a real pr!ck, but he really.." Foreman's voice lowered.

"He's House. The one and only. Can't live with him, and you really can't live without him." Chase knew and felt everything that Foreman was.

Foreman gave a small chuckle. He knew that their friendship was no House and Wilson, but whatever it was, it worked for him. "Lunch?"

"Absolutely."


	5. And Her Walls Came Crashing Down

Chapter 5 – And Her Walls Came Crashing Down

Though nothing was in his room besides monitors and an IV set, House was jolted out of sleep a few times. He'd been having strange dreams all night. He had one of Wilson and his first wife having a child. This didn't and wouldn't ever happen, but it was so vivid.

He starred at the ceiling. Almost drifting into another absurd dream, the door slid open and Stacy walked in. Oh, how stupid that grin was on his face.

"Where's my food?"

"Food? You never told me to bring food." She said.

"Whatever, come sit by me." He muttered as he moved to the other side of the bed so she'd have a spot.

"Are..you sure?" There was a moment hesitation but then he felt her sit on his good side.

He took her hand and placed it on his chest as he did before. He felt her hand tremble slightly. "I love you. Never felt the same with anyone else. I know I might be rushing this thing and I am sorry. I just needed to tell you before anything else happens."

He suddenly felt her lips on his. He put his arm around her and felt her hair. "I love you too, House" she whispered in between small kisses. Her hair didn't feel the same. Stacy never called him House either.

He had never shot up so fast in his life. "Cameron!"

"Cameron!" he yelled once more.

Apparently he had not be fortunate enough to miss a bout of hallucinations from the Ketamine. He immediately wiped his mouth off.

Her mouth came at him in a dizzy manner as it once had done to Chase. He removed her face and pushed it away. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"I came in to check on you. Then you told me you love me. I knew you were using that reaction formation crap. I love you, House." She went in to kiss him again.

"Cameron, get the hell off me. I was tripping out again. I thought you were Stacy. I do not love you. Get out. NOW."

She felt as if her heart had just exploded in her chest. She felt those tear come to her eyes again as she gathered her mortally embarrassed self together and briskly trotted out of his room.

He wiped his mouth off one last time in disgust. "Why me?" he said softly to himself. He didn't hate Cameron. She was his employee and at times he even considered her a friend that keeps him in line. But he had never really felt for her what she clearly felt for him. Sure, he thought she was "hot" on some occasions, but that was the 19-year-old inside him talking. Other times she just seemed like this stupid little girl thinking that she'll get what she wants because she's beautiful.

He did feel bad. But he need to make himself known_. I'll talk to her tomorrow_, he thought_. Can't be any worse that what had just happened._


	6. Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 6 – Like Father, Like Son

House didn't sleep very well that night. Every time walked by the room or made any sort of noise, he woke up. He thought about what happened a few hours ago with Cameron and wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been pacing back and forth waiting for the right time to "talk". He knew that there was nothing to talk about, but he knew how that girl worked. Everything is something to her.

After a few moments of convincing himself that sleep was what he needed and overanalyzing wasn't, he let his eyes close. Another night of ridiculous dreams was ahead of him.

Oddly, when House woke up around 8am, he felt quite refreshed and awake. Just in time for breakfast too. Just as he finished his pancakes, eggs, and orange juice, his mother walked in. She had a great smile on her face as she did every time she saw her only child.

"Hi, Honey. How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better. Still a little achy, but hey, bullets will do that to you." He chuckled.

"Well, someone wants to see you." She said very softly as Mr. House walked in front of her. He looked extremely tired and some what red in the eyes. He made a silent motion asking his son if he could sit down. House was tired of arguing and nodded in approval. His father did not look angry for the first time he could remember. Something told Greg House that his father did not want to fight. Intrigued was not even the word to describe Greg's thoughts at that moment.

House took a deep breath. "So how are you doing, Dad?"

"I'm alright. The bigger question is how are you doing?"

Greg studied his father's face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired. I couldn't sleep all that well last night. You should know I WAS worried about you, Gregory." After getting that almost hard to say statement out, Mr. House crossed his arms. Greg noticed a small bandage over his vein on his right arm.

"Did you get blood taken?"

"Not taken. Donated. In case something happened, your stitches torn, or something else that would require you to need more blood. Who better to give it to you than your old man, eh?" John House looked right into his son's eyes. Marines were always like that.

House was completely taken back with what his father had done. For the first time that he can remember, he felt nothing negative toward his father. He felt only gratitude.

"Thanks, Dad." He said in the most sincere manner.

"Greg, I don't want to fight with you anymore. Come to think of it, I never wanted to fight with you. When your mother hurried into the living room and told me that you were shot, it scared the hell out of me. Maybe even more than when your had your leg problem. When you were born, I swore I'd never lie to you and I never did. I just always figured that the reason we fought was because we're two of a kind."

House couldn't do anything but remain silent. He was still trying to comprehend what he was hearing. That and the sudden positive glow around his father. Secretly he always wanted this to happen.

"You're my kid, Greg and I love you." He finally said to his son.

Greg felt a little winded. He took a small breath and said right to his father, "I love you too, Dad. You're right. We are two of a kind. You know what kind that is right? Pains in the a sses."

He got a good chuckle out of his father and he felt that the air had finally been clear. Mr. House stood up and over his son. And held out his hand for Greg. Greg took it and held it, not realizing that he pulled his father a little closer and gave him a small hug and a pat on the back. Mr. House sat back down and smiled a genuine smile.

"So are you waiting for one of these nurses to give you a sponge bath? He laughed.

"Actually, Stacy came to see me."

"Your mother told me that she's married. I didn't know you two still were speaking." The House Senior spoke rather curiously.

"It's a long story. She came back to me a while ago but I sent her away because you know me – I've got to be stupid. But she's not married anymore. We're friends now." Greg explained.

"Friends? Ha! Gregory, she is your match. First time you brought her to meet us, I saw you look at her. You look at her the way I look at your mother. We get one woman like that in our life. You better eventually marry her. I'm not getting any younger and you certainly are not either!"

Greg and his father laughed back and forth for what seemed like forever. His mother walked in with a bottle of water and bottle of cola. As she handed the cola to her husband, Mr. House jumped right in. "Guess who's back in the picture? Stacy!" he seemed happy for his son. His mother's face lit up like Christmas and House explained everything to her as he did his father.

His father was right. They were two of a kind. And he knew it.


	7. You've Got the Better of Me

Chapter 7 – You've Got the Better of Me.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

That's all Lisa Cuddy had been doing with her pen for the last hour. She hadn't slept in nearly 48 hours and she was restless as all hell. She needed go to see and talk to House now that he was awake. There was so much she needed to say to him but could never bring herself to speak.

It had been the weirdest thought process of her life. Only 3 weeks before the shooting, the most absurd thought of her life and landed itself in her head. _What the hell did House mean when he told me to find someone I knew to be the father of my baby? He's he hinting to himself? No, he couldn't have been. House a father? When Hell freezes over._

She clicked her heels down to the ICU and walked into House's room. She was greeted by his parents and they had thanked her for what she had done for their son. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and assured him that she'd come visit before she left for home.

House's parents had gone back to the hotel at around noon, allowing Greg to doze off for a while.

He opened his eyes after seeing a very bright light through his lids. In the middle of the light was the most beautiful face. Stacy's.

"Am I in Heaven?" he whispered.

"Ha, close." She moved her head from directly over his to his left side and sat on the chair.

Upon sitting down, she flopped a white, slightly greasy bag on his table. "Promises are promises."

He opened the bag and his nose was greeted with the savory smells of 2 Ruben's from the gourmet deli down the street. He smiled at her as he dug through the bag.

"Oh, and I couldn't help it," she started as she threw another bag on the table. Sweedish fish, gummy worms, and black jelly beans were the contents of bag #2. This woman knew him inside and out sometimes and he did not mind one bit.

"You look tired" he said in between bites of his sandwich. She really did look tired as all hell, but still beautiful.

"Yeah, a little bit. I haven't been sleeping well lately. Probably from all the work I have to do. It's been crazy at the firm lately. But how are you feeling?" She asked sincerely, but something was missing in her demeanor. Maybe it was the stress like she said. But if anyone really knew Greg House, he didn't even stop thinking. Ever.


	8. Maybe We Can

Chapter 8 – Maybe We Can.

It had been a little over 6 weeks since the shooting. Most of the staff of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital had returned to normal. Maybe the reason was the five new security officers and metal detector recently installed. Who knew.

Lisa Cuddy walked into her office in a huff and just plopped down in her chair. She had been extra stressed the past few weeks. She had a short but big enough breakdown to slip to Wilson about her quest for motherhood. Wilson did not seem the least bit surprised. To her surprise, he actually figured it out after a while. He was relentless in his support for his friend. Having another person to talk about this made Lisa fell, well – more confident about the whole situation. He had even helped her with her twice daily injections as House was out of commission.

"I really hope this works out for you," he spoke lightly.

She smiled, "I hope so too."

"You're going to be a good mom, Lisa. I want you to know that. Whatever happens."

As he walked out of her office, she had a sudden twinge on what she wanted_. Oh boy_, she thought.

Nothing had been really the same after the shooting. The team minus House worked the clinic and disbanded periodically to work in their respected departments. Since it happened, the three had become closer. Maybe it was for comfort and knowing that it could happen to any doctor, or maybe it was simply friendship.

Cameron had been dealing privately with her conflicting feelings. After watching House hold Stacy, it was apparent that she was just a stupid girl in love with someone who isn't in love with her. Like she always does, she gave herself a few days pity party; to see if anyone cared. She hated the fact that she was so predictable, like House would always say, but some things about oneself that cannot be changed.

In the few short weeks, Cameron had become closer to Foreman. It had become their tradition to go to coffee or for some drinks after work. She was surprised how easily she could talk to this man after almost cursing the day he was given a medical degree. Pretty soon they knew most each other's history and developed that kind of friendship you'd never want to ruin.

Chase remained the same for the most part. He went out on occasion with Foreman and Cameron, but started to keep to himself more and more. After House was shot, Robert Chase suddenly thought that God had been punishing him. Taking away his father after he pushed him out of his life, and now taking one of the few men in his life that inspired him to become something more.

House was a completely different story. This time Stacy was there. Being the infamous "we met in a strip and moved in together a week later" story was theirs, they developed a friendship over the course of House's recovery. He knew that this friendship would never become platonic, he kept quiet and remained calm for when the time was right.

He was surprised to find out that Stacy's new job had given her ability to move back to Princeton. She had been living only two miles away from the teaching hospital during the time of the shooting. She made it a secret, not wanting to be near Greg because it causes her so much pain that she could not control. She was content with the way things were at the moment. There was no pressure, no neediness, or even anger between the two. She had not felt this content since their first two years together.

One rather cold November afternoon, she made her way over to the PPTH for her biweekly lunch with House and Wilson.

House had been preoccupied with tossing a ball in the air to notice Stacy's entrance.

"You know, Greg, you shouldn't be working so hard" she said in her usual sarcastic manner.

Without turning around, he whipped the ball behind him and spun around in his chair. To his extreme surprise, she caught the ball with one hand and without really looking. She was getting better at this. He smiled.

"Wilson better hurry up. I'm hungry and he's paying."


	9. Over the Hill

Chapter 9 – Over the Hill

The next few weeks were almost happy at the PPTH.

"Son of a…!!" yelled House.

"What?" Wilson yipped, worried that House had done something really stupid.

"Do you know what day it is? It's December 5th! Stacy's birthday is next week! I'm an idiot." He muttered.

Wilson look at his friend and smiled that cheesy smile that showed the shining light of good in the world. "Here's your chance, big guy." After giving him a small punch in the arm, he walked about into his office.

House needed an idea and fast. Looking up to his ceiling he contemplated. After about 10 minutes, he grinned to himself. _Perfect_, he thought.

Stacy had be having a rough week. Work had been stressful lately, her neighbors got a new dog that became her four time a night alarm clock. Not to mention there were other things that were stressing her out too.

Finally settling down to the last half hour of her day, the secretary knocked politely on her door. "Excuse me, Ms. Parker, he would not take no for an answer". She was rudely bumped aside by non other than Gregory House. The secretary Marie looked back up to House and smiled, "You were right, she does make that face when she sees you!". He gave her a small pat on the back and walked into Stacy's office.

"Gosh, you never loose your charm on the seniors! That's probably the most contact that woman has had in 40 years." She charmed. She couldn't get the smile off her face. She knew exactly what face Greg had told Marie that she made.

"I have business to discuss with you, Parker." He liked using her maiden name again. Sounded a hell of a lot better that Warner.

"Which is?"

"The anniversary of your birth, of course. Now, if my calculations are correct, you're turning fif.." She did not let him finish that sentence. After her face softened so did his. "Okay, okay, over the hill. Does that sound better to you?" he chuckled.

It hit her only a week ago. _I'm going to be fifty. Fifty! I do NOT look fifty._ She came out of her little epiphany reflection and looked over at the man who could make her hands shake on a warm summer day. "What about my birthday?"

"Seeing that you haven't mentioned anything about it or gushed about one of your girlfriends taking you out, I will. I don't want any complaints from you either." He warned.

"Fine, Greg." That was the only thing she said. She gave a little reassuring smile, but something was missing. For weeks, he'd be trying to figure out this little anomaly. She was stressed about something but he knew it couldn't be just work. The woman was brilliant at what she did.

"You okay?" he asked with a hint of genuine concern.

"Yeah, why?" she replied rather quickly.

"Well, you've been a little off lately. Like something's really not right." He searched her face for any clue or indication of some sorts but found nothing. She made a 'don't worry' but he was not buying it. "It's not just the job. It's something else. It's Mark, isn't it?" He held his breath as he waiting for this awkward question.

"He's sent me an email everyday for about two weeks. I haven't responded to any of them because I don't know what to say. 'Hi, honey. Wait scratch that. Hi, Mark, how have you been since our divorce? Do I want to go out for coffee? Umm, no."

"Do you still love him?" Again he held his breath and squeezed his cane a bit.

"I did. But it's not the love that was made for a marriage. I really should not have married someone after dating only 5 months. Serves me right, I suppose."

Greg saw how uncomfortable she was becoming and quickly changed topics. "So Friday, I am picking you up at 5, and please do not wear a dress, before you ask, yes, we are taking the bike. Remember no complaints." She smiled and nodded. He got up and gave her a smile. Despite the Ketamine only working for about a week, his pain did decrease slightly and was a little more bearable. He left her stroking her bottom lip in thought of what this man had planned.


	10. Cause Here I Come

Chapter 10 – 'Cause here I come

The week flew by and Friday was upon them. House took a personal day to prepare for his evening with Stacy. The majority of his day was spent cleaning his townhouse, doing dishes, and doing laundry. He did a mental inventory of what he still needed to do. Walking into his bedroom, he made his bed. Not that he was going to end the night here, but he still wanted the place looking presentable. He always wondered why he had so many books on his side table when he hardly read before he went to bed. Most nights he just crashed and did not give them a second thought. He put them on his perfectly constructed bed, only realizing that he didn't really have space on his self in the living room.

He opened draws and just put them in there. _She's not going to be looking in here anyway_, he thought. Not even thinking he opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand to toss the rest of the books, when he saw something. This wasn't just any something, it was THE something. He hadn't seen this something in years. A small velvet box was in the corner of the drawer collecting a mild amount of dust. Right next to the box, there was a dusty frame with an old picture of him and Stacy. It had been at Jimmy and Julie's wedding way back when. He had asked Jimmy to take a picture of them in front of the cherry blossom trees that surrounded the outdoor reception. He laughed lightly to himself because it looked like that "Kissing the War Goodbye" photo that he always sees on an online advertisement. He remembered that it wasn't how the picture was supposed to be. Stacy wanted a nice smiles picture, but that's what she got. It was his favorite.

He hesitated before he reached down and picked the box up, realizing that the last time he had touched this item, the world was a completely different place. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to open the small box. Opening his eyes, he saw the finest purchase he ever made. A vintage style engagement ring that he bought only 2 years after Stacy moved in was the contents. He stared at it for what seemed like hours. He slowly put his head down and put his and over his face. He collected himself with speed and put the ring and box back into its dark corner of his nightstand.

After showering and getting dressed into the finely ironed black pin striped dress shirt complete with black tie and black slacks, he walked into the living room to put on some music. He had to pick Stacy up in 2 hours and already he was getting nervous. He put a random song on that ended up being "Get Ready" by the Temptations. He smiled at this, thinking that there are signs.

He got back into the bathroom and touched yet another almost foreign object – his electric razor. The music played throughout the place and he found himself swaying his hips a little bit. _God, she makes me retarded_, he thought. After dancing a bit around his apartment, he called Wilson.

"You're actually nervous!" he cried out in amusement. "Well, you are at the make or break point in your devious plan to get the love of your life back, why wouldn't you be?" he mused.

"You know if this conversation was in person, your shin would be in pain. Yes, I'm nervous." He admitted.

"Well, you needed a pep talk. Here it is. You can do this. You've waited for this moment for way too long. You love her. She loves you. You love her."

"I do," he made a stupid lovestruck gaze at himself in the mirror. Realizing that he just sounded, well normal, he changed his tone. " Jeez, you should have saw me getting ready. Like a girl getting ready for the prom."

" I bet, well, I'll see you tomorrow. Remember – you love her. You can do this. Later, man." With that he hung up the phone. Greg looked over his shoulder at the clock.

Taking a deep breath he got his jacket on and jingled his keys. _It's time_.


	11. The Date

Chapter 11 – The Date

He was never so nervous in his life.

In a way, Wilson had been right. He was waiting for this for way too long.

The ride to her building seemed longer than it should have been, but that could have been his nerves talking. Oddly enough, since they had gotten back in touch, he's never been or seen her apartment. All that could chance. _But not tonight_ he reminded himself. Tonight was going to be for _them_, not him.

Turning the corner onto her street, he saw her leaning against the bordering fence. House's breath was taken away. There she was in her nice black slacks and a small leather coat that she wore on days she felt adventurous. Her hair was in soft curls and complete with her winning smile.

Stacy also had to remind herself to breathe. Though she was turning half century the next morning, she felt like she was 20 again.

"Your ride, madam." He said as he handed her the extra helmet. "Doesn't do much for your hair, but trust me I like you better with your head in one piece."

"Why, thank you, sir" she mused. House looked at her as he helped her tighten the strap on the helmet. _God, she is adorable_, he thought to himself.

Off they went.

Arriving at Nordano's, a quiet little Italian joint, Stacy began to laugh.  
"Last time we were here, I never wanted to see you again. I didn't even know it was still here."

One linguini and clam sauce and a veal parm, talk of work and business formalities later, House and Stacy got back on the bike and drove off.

"Where are we going now?" she asked rather loudly, not sure if he could hear her through the noise. He smiled and sped up. He pursed his lips trying to contain his joy as he felt her arms around him tighten. _Play it cool, Hotshot_. Terrified of the increasing speed, Stacy squeezed her eyes shut and hoped to survive the next few minutes.

As she reopened them, she was greeted with the beautiful lights of the holiday. She was at the famous downtown Garden of Lights, a beautiful display of holiday lights of every color and every shape.

She looked at him and he gave her a rather cheesy smile. "I know how much you like looking at Christmas lights" he said as he began the trail.

As his words left his mouth, Stacy knew that she was more in love with him than ever. Though she wanted to just jump him right there, she too was patient for this night to go well.

"Greg, this is lovely. Thank you."

And so they walked. Past a gingerbread house completely of lights, he finally spoke.

"So Miss Over-the-Hill, are you enjoying your little birthday romp?"

"I cannot believe that you just called me that. I'm surprised you didn't buy me a button announcing it." She giggled, trying to sound offended.

"You'd be surprised at the things I didn't do." He said as he knew he had to change the subject. He was getting to the point where he was not watching what he said, and at that point anything could have come out of his mouth. She looked at him with a suspicious grin and stopped to lean against a gate, looking forward to the amazing display of lights.

"Tell me something I don't know, Greg." She said softly. He seemed amused and turned to lean with her to look at the lights. She looked over. "No, seriously, Greg. Tell me something I don't know."

For the first time of the evening, he was truly terrified. _Deflect or say something stupid._ "The time that you found a rip in that white skirt you loved, it wasn't the dry cleaners fault, it was mine. I accidentally ripped it when I was moving stuff around one day. Didn't have the heart to tell you."

Stunned, she exclaimed, "Gregory House, you bastard! You should have told me before I went and screamed at those people down at the dry cleaners!!" She laughed after that to let him know that she wasn't mad, but just amused.

"Your turn."

" Well," she started. "About a month I had left…the second time, I came into the hospital. I wanted to see you. I knew it was a stupid move but I needed to do it."

"What stopped you?" he was now curious.

"Allison Cameron." She scoffed. "I guess she was in the clinic and saw me walk in. She told me that you instructed her to ask me to leave if I ever came back. Being as sick as I was over the whole situation, I left." She looked down, not wanting to look at him. "Your turn again."

He drew a deep breath and exhaled into the cold air. "October 6th 2000. I was too nervous to be spontaneous about it. So I randomly selected a date off the calendar on New Year's Day and set a plan. October 6th was the day I was going to ask you to marry me. You left on October 5th." He tried to chuckle it off, but when he looked at Stacy, he saw her heart break in front of him.

She was in disbelief, but quickly pulled herself together as not to cry. "What would have happened if I stayed another day?" She held her breath.

"I don't know." He pushed himself off the gate and began walking toward the exit. Turning around he shouted, "C'mon, Stace! Free drinks at Casa de Greg!" as he hobbled to the bike.

She was happy yet sad at the same time. She nodded and followed after him. _God, I hope this night isn't ruined_, she thought.

The warmth of 221B was quite welcomed by the two.

Greg said nothing to her as they walked into the house. What he had told her not more than a half hour ago was running through his mind. What he wouldn't give to know what was going on inside her head.

Stacy's mind was reeling as well.

After placing their jackets on the coat rack, Stacy sat on the wonderful leather couch that she loved so much. Greg went into the kitchen and returned only to show her a bottle of her favorite amaretto with a small bow. "Something for the birthday girl."

She smiled at him and suddenly he had another plan. "Music!"

He walked over to his system and looked for a station that would fit the mood. "And now for my finale of the night," he began. "A dance with the host. Get over here."

"Is your leg up for it?" she asked quite sincerely.

"Yes. Just get over here." He took her hand as The Stylistics took over.

It wasn't really awkward at first, but both were trying not to be so anxious to touch each other. Suddenly Stacy flashbacked to the first time she slow danced with Greg House. It had been at his first birthday with her. She bought him a hard to find Mel Carter album and he insisted that he get the first dance to "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me". It had been one of her most treasured moments with this man.

Seconds after she came around, her and this man she loved so much were in another world. A world where it felt that nothing else existed engulfed them in the moment. Greg held Stacy contently. Ironically, the song "You are Everything" matched everything they felt. They danced close and cheek to cheek.

_Today I saw somebody who looked just like you  
She walked like you do  
I thought it was you_

She looked at him with her hazel eyes and locked onto his blues. It never failed to amaze her what she saw in them.

_As she turned the corner  
I called out your name  
I felt so ashamed  
When it wasn't you  
Wasn't you  
_  
Licking his lips, he began to mouth the chorus to her. Eyes never leaving hers.

_You are everything  
And everything is you  
You are everything  
And everything is you_

No laughing, no words. Just the mutual understanding of what was going on. He continued to silently sing her the lyrics, only moving his mouth.

_How can I forget when each face that I see  
Brings back memories of being with you  
_

Nothing is going through Stacy's mind except words she only uttered once before, You were the one changed simply to You are the one.

_I just can't go on living life as I do  
Comparing each girl to you  
Knowing they just won't do  
They're not you_

As the chorus began to repeat, Stacy took her right hand out of Greg's left, and slowly put her arms around his neck, resting her head over his shoulder. She didn't care that she had to almost be on her toes, but she was thankful she wore her higher heels. That always made things easier. She tried to be discrete as she wiped a small tear off the side of her face.

Greg was lost in Stacy. His head was bent slightly to rest in the inside of her neck. Everything comes back to you in due time, they say. He wants it to come back to him. And never leave. He lets go slowly to look at the woman in his arms. He saw her eyes glisten with love glowing behind the tears. At that moment he knew. This was it.

He slowly pushed the deviant lock of hair out of her eyes and barely put his lips on her. He lingered there for a moment, waiting to see what she would to, to see if his judgement was correct. He was never more correct in his life.

Their lips nervously ran over each others, careful not to loose the innocence of the moment. His hand found its way to her cheek, cupping it slightly. Her hand then found the one on her cheek and softly placed her own on it.

They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, but was only a minute or two. Then reluctantly, he pulled away and looked at her. "Better get you home," he whispered. She nodded. Neither of them wanted to ruin the most perfect night either of them have had in a very long while.

The night air had a different feeling as they left the townhouse. He made a genuine smile when she reached over and held his left hand as they walked to his bike. The ride back had a different feeling as well. He tried committing her holding him from behind to memory, afraid he wouldn't believe it in the morning. They arrived back at the lonely gate, both of them dreading the thought of leaving each other.

He helped her off the bike and walked with her to the door of her building.

"Thank you for tonight." She smiled as she put her arms once more around him. He laughed at the fact that she was two steps higher than where he was and she was still shorter than he. As he put his nose to hers, gave it a small kiss, he spoke.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart.". The sweetheart addition was quite an accomplishment for him. He had never used that term of endearment for anyone else but her.

"Give me a call tomorrow, okay?" He nodded. She kissed his left cheek. "And the day after that." She then kissed his right cheek. "And the next day." Then finally she kissed his lips. "And .."

"Everyday after," he concluded.

She gave a small wave and closed the big door behind her.

On his way back to the bike, he realized that he left his cane back at his townhouse_. A good night indeed,_ he thought.


	12. Ghost in the Darkness

Chapter 12 – Ghost in the Darkness

Stacy, completely lovestruck, found herself humming the Stylistics song as she climbed the stairs. She had so much pent up energy from this night, that she rejected the elevator. And she cannot even begin to wipe the stupid smile off her face.

Her smile did take a vacation when she saw a soccer ball fly towards her head. Thankfully, she ducked in time to catch a glimpse of her 17 year old neighbor Ricky. He ran up to her and pick up the ball.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Parker."

She had to laugh. "It's okay, Ricky. How's the season going?"

"Undefeated so far. You look happy." He said noticing the silly grin on her face.

"I am. I turned 50 today." She quipped. "Now here's your chance to make it up to me and tell me how young I look."

"Oh, Ms. Parker. If I was older, you'd be in trouble. Happy Birthday!" He laughed. "Have a good night," he said as he walked back into the apartment right next to Stacy's.

She walked back into her empty apartment again humming her previous tune. At least she thought it was empty.

"Wow, you look happy. Couldn't even wait a whole year before going right back to that piece of garbage."

Mark. Mark Warner. He was sitting in her chair by the window like a ghost in the darkness.

Jumping completely back, Stacy was looking around, trying to figure out how he got into her apartment. She could feel her temperature rising with fear as she absent mindedly held her crucifix.

"Mark, how did you get into my apartment? What do you want?" she felt her voice shake as she spoke to this man who did not look happy at all.

"Well, it would have been nice if you answered my messages" he said as rose to his feet. He'd been progressing quickly, she thought. He no longer used a walker, and he looked almost fully restored to his previous physical self before the AIP. "I might have to start thinking that you don't love me anymore."

As she dropped her eyes to the ground to avoid his stare, she saw the glimmer in his hand.

"Mark," she said almost inaudibly. "Why do you have a knife?"

"Ah, well." He started stepping closer to with each word. With each word, she stepped back, until she was stopped by the counter. "I was only coming over here to talk. You know, catch up. Then I saw the most absurd thing outside. I guess I just lost it." He started laughing and waving the knife around his face which made Stacy's heart stop.

In a swift move to get back to the door, she bolted, only to be caught by the knife in Mark's hand in the right arm. She screamed the most blood curdling scream. He kneeled over her trembling body and with one swift move, cut a line from her right bicep, across her chest, putting more pressure into the cut above her chest. "Til death do us part."he said he cut her. She inhaled a sharp breath, unable to scream anymore. Blood flowing out of her like a river, everything went dark in her eyes.

As Mark, opened the door to run out, he was hit by a solid crack of a baseball bat. Ricky. Thank God the walls are like paper. He opened the door completely to discover Stacy's almost lifeless body covered in her own blood.

"MOM!!! MOM!!! CALL 911!!!!!"


	13. Shattered

Chapter 13 – Shattered

There's way too much paperwork for comfort, thought Lisa Cuddy. She'd be at her desk for the second late night in a row occasionally taking a coffee break. Walking out of the cafeteria, she decided to walk through the emergency wing to have a word with Nurse Hillary who had apparently been moonlighting down in the clinic. At about the time Lisa saw Hillary, she rushed to the newly arriving patient.

Woman. Late 40s, early 50s. Stab wound across upper extremity. Large amount of blood loss. Possible cardiac perforation.

"We need another doctor in here STAT!" yelled one of the attendings. Lisa quickly put a gown on and threw some gloves on and ran into the room.

The wind was immediately knocked out of here as she looked at the patient's face. It was Stacy. Once she was prepped for surgery, Lisa ran to the nearest phone and called Wilson. She had no idea how to inform House.

"Wilson."

"Jim! Call House! Tell him to get over here NOW!" she cried. She was slowly loosing the battle between her mind and her watering eyes. As Wilson hung up, she ran into the ladies room only to break down and weep as one of her closest friends lay in such peril.

House lay sprawled across his bed with a smile on his face. Truth be told, he did not even remember the last time he smiled like this. Things were going his way. Until now.

He came back to reality when he heard his cell phone go off. Seeing that it was Wilson, he answered, "Gosh, Jimmy, you couldn't wait tomorrow to get the details. You woman."

"HOUSE, you need to get in here. Stacy's here." He replied as his voice shook.

"Why is she there? Tell her to come over to my place."  
" No, House! She's in the ER! She's been….stabbed. Possible cardiac puncture!"

By the time Wilson said "puncture", House was already out his door getting on his bike.

Breaking every speed limit in the 8 miles from his townhouse to the hospital, House had nothing going through his mind except Stacy.

Coming into the PPTH, House nearly knocked over 5 people on his way to the ER. Wilson and Cuddy met him in the nearby hallway. His eyes were already red, his heart in his throat, wanting only to hear the news from his two closest friends. His face was desperate.

"What happened?!" he said frantically.

"M-Mark broke into her apartment and attacked her. That's what we got from the police. It must have been after your dinner together." staggered Lisa. Guilt inched up House's throat like acid.

Wilson reached out and touched House's shoulder. "I'm going to watch the surgery, do..do you want to come?"

House refused. "Call me as soon as she's out."

Walking into his office, he locked the door and didn't even bother to turn the lights on. Sitting behind his desk on the floor, he puts his head in his hands. "Please," he whispered. To no one in the dark room, he kept whispering. As each time he whispered this to himself, he felt his control dwindling. Finally, the man who everyone assumed to be hard, bitter, and unhinged, lost his strength to conceal. For the first time in a very long time, Gregory House allowed tears to fall from his eyes.

A little more than three hours later, House was informed that Stacy was out of surgery and in intensive care.


	14. Never Growing Up, Just Aging

Chapter 14 – Never Growing Up, Just Aging

They say that no matter how long you're a doctor, things change when it's your loved one who is the patient. House took a few minutes to get himself together, and limped down to the ICU. With the emotional rollercoaster he'd been riding the past few hours, his leg felt like lead. Chase was walking out of her room when House turned the corner. He was almost stunned to see House's heartbroken face.

"Surgery went perfect. They stitched up the small cardiac laceration and her vitals are stable. We're just waiting for her to wake up. I have to warn you though, she will have a massive scar from bicep to bicep and of course the post op scar." House hadn't picked his head up. He just intently stared at the floor. Chase tried to meet his eyes. "She's going to be okay, House. She was lucky." House finally looked up.

Taking a deep breathe, he simply whispered, "Thank you."

Chase gave him a small nod and walked down the hall. Bracing himself, House walked into her room.

During the years that they were together, he always knew that they would spend the rest of their lives together. That was the way he always thought. Him and Stacy. Stacy and him. Sometimes when he was in one of his somber drunken states, he would wonder about the future. His strange morbid mind pondered around the question of which one of them would go first. For some dark reason, he never once thought that she might be the first one to leave this world. He knew he couldn't handle the thought of the world without Stacy. Because in all actuality, she was his world.

She looked so frail and weak. This strong and passionate woman that he loved was reduced to this. He should have told her to stay. This all happened because of him. These thoughts were like a bad CD on repeat.

He limped over to her bed side, pulling a chair with him. He saw the scars that Chase was talking about. Feeling his eyes sting once again, he took her hand in his.

Wilson opened the door slowly and walked over to his broken friend. "Hey."

"Hey."

"This isn't your fault." He whispered. Realizing that House wasn't going to lift his head anytime soon, he figured that he didn't need to talk about this just yet. "Can I get you anything?"

House finally turned around. "Just get my jacket and bag from my office. I'm staying here tonight."

Nodding his head, Wilson turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

He had to admit that he wasn't in the most comfortable position. His legs were propped on the extra chair, his torso twisted in another. He moved the small table next to the bed in order to be as close to her as possible. He was absent mindedly stroking her palm and fingers. Grunting in pain a little, he reached over to grab his bag and his pills.

Reaching for that wonderful little orange bottle, he felt something in his bag that he couldn't quite identify. Pulling it out, he realized that this was the closest thing to a journal that he had. A book that he filled with quotes and poems. None of them were Gregory House originals, but he always put in the ones that he felt really connected with him.

Turning a few pages, he found the last poem that he wrote in his book. He didn't remember how he found this, but he remembers that it was during his recovery from the shooting. It was when Stacy came back.

Clearing his throat, he took her hand again and began to recite to the love of his life.

"I know your tricks and your deceptions,  
You know my spells and wiles and charms.  
From traps you've given me protection:  
Sometimes I've lost you from my arms.  
Sure we've had other lovers in our beds:  
It helped when there was time to kill  
Or with our bodies' passions raging,  
But in the end when all is said  
It seemed our only special skill  
Was never growing up, just aging.

And each succeeding year uncovers  
More opportunities for hurt.  
Of traps that lie in wait for lovers  
This one's the hardest to avert.  
Of course you take more time to cry,  
I take a lot more work to crack,  
We get more devious and clever.  
You can't let chances pass you by,  
You have to learn to watch your back:  
The tender war goes on forever."

Taking another deep breath,

"Oh my love,  
My sweet,

my marvellous, my tender love, From early dawn until day's end  
I love you still."

Closing the book, he placed it gently back into his bag and closed his eyes. Even though she wasn't awake, he still hoped that she heard it. Relaxing his tense shoulders, he heard the driest whisper.

"I love you too."

He immediately shot up and kicked the chair where his legs rested half way across the room. Standing over her, he touched her with a soft finger, moving a rebel piece of hair out of her face. She shifted uncomfortably with what House knew was her post-op pain and looked up at him. She grinned at him.

"I let you out of my sight for 5 minutes and-"

"Shh. It's not every day Greg House actually reads poetry." He chuckled lightly at this.

"Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up" he managed to say without going above a sweet whisper. Leaning over the railing, he placed a lingering kiss on her lips.

As she drifted back to sleep, he felt the once limp hand that held in his hand, squeeze ever so lightly.


End file.
